Season 1: Pilot
by LimesAndBananas
Summary: What if the series had started out a little differently? Rating as T just to be safe.
1. Scene 1

**Eh, I don't know exactly when/why this popped into my head, but I just wanted to get it out there. I'm not sure where I'm taking it, if I'll cover just the most important [my favorite :P] episodes or what. I know that the episodes I do choose to cover will each be in one story. This story is for the Pilot, and there will be 12 chapters, one for each scene. I'm not a meticulous updater, but please bear with me…And enjoy :) !**

"Ugh, we're late..." Angela rushed towards the arrivals display. "This board is broken," She exclaimed after a moment of puzzled examination. Looking around, she repeated, "The arrivals board is not working!"

The artist shifted the sleeping girl in her arms and turned around, frantic. "Did anybody meet the flight from Guatemala? Aviateca Airlines? What gate?"

"Hmm," A sleepy yawn sounded out from the child resting on her shoulder, and Angela turned to find the little girl awake and rubbing her eyes.

"Mama?"

"Sorry sweetie," Angela sighed. "Still me."

"Down," The girl requested. "I can walk, Aunt Angie," She mumbled, still sleepy.

"Of course you can," Angela chuckled, setting her down. "Stay close, okay?"

"Excuse me," She walked towards customer service. "You have a computer glitch at the arrivals board."

The skinny man behind the counter didn't take his eyes away from the computer.

"Hello! Sir, excuse me, yoo-hoo!"

He held up his index finger, drawing a sigh from the anxious woman. "Great. Mikey, give me your other hand and look over there," She turned the girl so that she was facing away from the counter, then opened her top in a quick gesture.

The young man looked up, startled, his full attention now on Angela. "Yeah, hi." She nodded impatiently. "The flight from Guatemala?"

She whirled around when she felt Mikey rip her hand away, running towards something behind them.

"Mikey, get back – Sweetie!"

Brennan grinned, her hands full of luggage and five-year-old. "Tell me you tried excuse me first," She said, rolling her eyes.

"Mama, she did, she did," Mikey said excitedly. "The man was being rude, he ignored us and wouldn't say where you was!"

"Where you _were_, Michaela. But you're right, he does sound extremely impolite."

"Welcome home," Angela interrupted, excited at seeing her friend, "Are you exhausted? Was Guatemala awful? Was it horribly backward?"

"And yet I was never reduced to flashing my boobs for information," She chuckled.

"Ooh, flash them for any fun reasons?"

Mikey giggled and buried her head in her mother's neck. "Mama, Aunt Ange is being not appropriate like you said."

"Inappropriate," Brennan corrected. "And yes, she is. You should tell her that."

"Aunt Ange," The girl lifted her head and looked at Angela, her face serious. "Mama doesn't like it when you're inappropriate."

"Oh, doesn't she? I think she just doesn't want to answer the question so she's using your adorable face as an excuse to change the subject."

"Mama," Mikey looked back at her mom. "Aunt Ange thinks you're changing the subject."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I was literally neck-deep in a mass grave. _Not _romantic."

"You know," Angela huffed. "Diving headfirst in a pit of cadavers is no way to handle a messy break-up."

"Angela, nothing Pete and I ever did was messy."

"Then you were not doing the right things," The artist smirked.

Brennan frowned and paused. "Here, take her for a bit," She shifted her daughter over to Angela and spun around and nearly collided with a burly, suit-dressed man. "Sir, why are you following us?" She demanded.

The man grabbed her arm, but she sidestepped him swiftly and brought him down to the floor with some well-placed kicks.

Mikey was shrieking, close to tears, while Angela backed away and yelled for help. "Attack! Security, hello? Who runs this airport? Kick his ass, sweetie!"

"Police!" A cadre of men arrived, all aiming their guns at Brennan. "Step back now!"

"He attacked me!" She yelled indignantly, raising her arms.

"I'm Homeland Security!" He shouted, still on the ground.

"Oh…" Angela grimaced. "A-a little misunderstanding here."

"You can put away your guns," Brennan said quickly, noting the frightened look on her daughter's face.

The men complied, only to have the Homeland Security agent yell at them in annoyance, "What, is she in charge now? No, I'll tell you when you can lower your weapons!" He stood up and faced Brennan. "Hand over the bag."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" She shrugged and reached down to get her shoulder bag, then passed it over to him.

He unzipped it without preamble, and was shocked to find a graying, decomposed human skull staring back at him.

"Boo," Brennan teased, earning an amused grin from Angela and a startled jolt from the agent, who dropped the bag to the ground.

"Careful with that," She admonished as one of the officers cuffed her. "It's thousands of years old and very fragile."

"Mama," Mikey moaned tearfully, wriggling in Angela's arms and reaching for Brennan. "I wanna go home."

"I'm sorry," She stepped towards the girl and lowered her head to kiss her cheek, frustrated at not being able to raise her arms now that they were in handcuffs. "I can't go with you, Michaela. I have to stay here a while to sort this out, okay? Then I promise I'll come home."

"_Our _home?"

"Yes, our home. The apartment, I promise," Brennan repeated. "I'll try to be very quick, alright? You go to Angela's place now, and I'll pick you up later today and we'll go home."

"Just me and you?"

"Yeah Mick, just us," She kissed the little girl's cheek again then turned to Angela. "I'm sorry, Ange."

"It's no problem, sweetie," Angela glared at the agent. "It's not your fault. We'll be waiting for you at my place, okay?"

"Yes, okay. Thank you."

* * *

An hour later, Brennan was sitting in an unfamiliar car heading somewhere that was most definitely _not _Angela's, listening to FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth ramble about a body found at a cemetery.

"If you drive one more block," She said, exasperated. "I'm screaming 'kidnap' out the window. I can't work right now."

Her phone rang, interrupting his answer.

"Hello?"

"Mama, it's been an _hour_. Where are you?" A sobby voice questioned.

Brennan's face fell. "I already left the airport, Mick. I'm going home, I promise, okay? Don't cry."

Booth snickered, but grew serious again when Brennan shot him an angry, aggressive glare.

"You promised before," Mikey said, sniffling. "How long?"

"Fifteen minutes. We'll go home, just the two of us, okay? Like you asked."

"Aunt Angie's asking who you're with."

"It doesn't matter who I'm with," She glowered at the driver.

"Okay," Mikey whispered. "Bye, mama."

"Bye, Mickey. I'll be home soon."

"Boyfriend?" Booth questioned after she hung up.

"It's none of your business. Pull over."

"Sounds like a bit of a sissy. 'Don't cry'," He smirked.

"_Mick_," Brennan repeated angrily. "Is my daughter, Michaela. I hadn't seen her in two months. She came to get me at the airport but I couldn't go with her because of the stunt you pulled. Now let me out. You can find some other forensic anthropologist to help you. Try Montreal."

"Look, I'm sorry," Booth said. "I didn't know you had a daughter…Before, you never mentioned-"

"Yes, because it's none of your business. Now pull over."

"No, no, I'll drop you off. Where is it?"

Brennan hesitated. _He's just being nice so that you'll help him on the case. _But then her mind replayed the teary voice begging her to come home. "Fine," She conceded, then told him the address.

"So how old is she?" He asked after a long stretch of silence.

"Five."

"She staying with her dad?"

"No. She's staying with my friend Angela."

"Oh. You know, I have a kid too. Parker," He smiled. "He's four."

"Hmm," Brennan nodded absently.

A while later he was pulling up beside Angela's building and getting out to help Brennan with her luggage.

"Agent Booth, I have _one _bag. I can carry it by myself, thank you."

"I know, I know," He took it anyway. "Just, being a gentleman."

She glared at him. "I don't want you to come up."

"Why? I wanna meet your little girl," Booth grinned.

"I'm sure she's hardly interesting company to an FBI Agent. And you're hardly interesting company to her. Give me my bag," She held out her hand.

"Come on, Brennan. Just let me be polite, alright? Geez."

The anthropologist rolled her eyes then marched into the building and up the stairs without sparing him a second glance. A minute later they were waiting outside Angela's apartment.

The door was thrown open and a small dark-haired person flew outside, hugging Brennan's legs fiercely.

The woman chuckled and reached down to pull Mikey into her arms. "Were you making your Aunt Angie wait by the door?"

"No," Mike answered guiltily.

Brennan raised her eyebrow. "Yes," The little girl nodded, sighing. "I wanted to know when you got here!"

She looked back at Angela, who was staring at something to Brennan's right. Mikey followed her look and spotted the tall man standing beside her mother. "Mama," She mumbled, turning away and burying her face into Brennan's neck. "You said just us."

"It _is _just us," Brennan glared at Booth for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. "Agent Booth here was just leaving."

"Why is he _here_?"

"He wanted to bring my bag up for me."

"Why? Does he think you can't carry it?" She turned to face Booth. "She can carry it."

"Oh, I believe you," He chuckled. "I just wanted to do something nice."

"Hmm," Mikey nodded. "Thank you," She nudged Brennan's shoulder. "Mama, say thank you."

"Thank you, Booth," Brennan said grudgingly.

"Goodbye now. You can go after you say you're welcome," Mikey continued.

Booth looked a little taken aback, but Brennan and Angela just smirked. "Uh, okay. Well, you're welcome. And…Well, no. I can't say goodbye yet. I need to talk to your mom."

"Ugh," Brennan shook her head. "I knew it."

"Come on, Brennan, please. I need you on this. What's it going to take?"

She thought for a moment. "Full participation in the case."

"Fine."

"Not just lab work," Brennan clarified. "Everything."

"What, do you want to spit in my hand? We're Scully and Mulder."

"I don't…Know what that means."

Booth rolled his eyes. "It means I accept. I'll call you tomorrow? After tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. At…After lunch," She turned to Angela. "Ange, can you call Zack and inform him that Agent Booth will be picking him up to assist with a recovery?"

"Yeah, you got it. Just go now, sweetie. The two of you."

**What do you think? Please drop me a suggestion!**


	2. Scene 2

**Thanks for all the awesome reviews last chapter! :D I recognize that the Brennan-with-a-kid plot isn't the most original in the world, but I'm really happy that so many of you still enjoy my story. School starts tomorrow so I probably won't post this often, but I hope you enjoy this update!**

"Ice cream, we're having ice cream right?"

"_After_ lunch, yes. We can go out for some ice cream."

"And we get pasta for lunch, right? That's what you said, mama, you promised."

"Yes," Brennan nodded, smiling and setting the little girl down on the kitchen counter. "Pasta for lunch."

"When does school start?"

"September 13th," The scientist answered, unfazed by her daughter's quick change of subject.

"Is that soon?"

Temperance tilted her head and thought for a second. "Relatively soon, yes. It's in four days."

"Am I going to work with you tomorrow and after tomorrow? And after after tomorrow?" She giggled. "And after after after tomorrow?"

"No," Brennan answered, an amused grin on her face as she chopped up tomatoes to start the spaghetti sauce. "After after after tomorrow is September 13th, and you're going to school."

"I'm gonna start K5," Michaela announced proudly.

"I know you are, sweetheart. We're going to buy your supplies Monday afternoon."

"And next year I'm gonna be in _first grade_, mama! First grade!" The girl squealed excitedly.

"I know, Mickie," Brennan chuckled. "And then in second grade, then third, then fourth. You'll be a high school senior in no time."

"Mama, don't be silly," Mike shook her head and patted her mother's hand. "That's years away. I'm still gonna be little for a long time."

"Oh I don't know...You've been growing pretty fast. Soon you'll be too big to carry!"

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is," Brennan hid her grin.

"No, no it isn't, mama. You're strong," Michaela nodded decisively. "You hit that man at the airport."

"Hmm, that's true," Tempe scooped up the child and hugged her.

"See!" She giggled. "You can carry me!"

They walked into the living room; Mikey balanced on Brennan's hip, and sat down on the couch.

"Don't we have to make lunch?"

"Yes, but we're waiting for the water to boil. You want to color with me? I got us a new coloring book at the airport," She reached to grab her bag off the end of the couch and dug around for the kids' booklet she had picked up while she was waiting for Angela.

"No," Mike shook her head at the bright _Science Kids _coloring book.

"No?" Her mom repeated, confused. "What do you want to do then?"

"Can we watch tv?" The little brunette smiled up hopefully. "Please?"

"I suppose…" Brennan picked up the remote and awkwardly clicked on the television. Mikey barely ever watched television, and Brennan watched it even less. "What would you like to watch?"

"Cartoons!" Mike bellowed happily. "Oddparents is on at lunchtime. Aunt Angie and I watched it together every day."

Brennan gritted her teeth and flipped the channel until Mike recognized her new favorite TV program. _Angela…_

"I'm going to go check on lunch, Mick," She said. "You just stay here."

"Angela," Brennan hissed into her cell phone as soon as she was in the kitchen. "You corrupted my child!"

"What? I did _not_," Angela exclaimed.

"Yes, you did," Temperance countered calmly. "She's in the living room right now watching _cartoons_! She never wanted to watch cartoons before! Now she'll grow up wanting to spend every waking hour in front of the television and never do anything productive or educational!"

"Bren, sweetie. You're overreacting. All we did was watch one hour of cartoons at lunchtime."

"Mama," A laughing voice yelled from the living room. "You're missing everything!"

"Fine," Brennan sighed into the phone. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye, sweetie," Angela answered, amused. "See you."

"You took _so _long," Mikey said exasperatedly, staring at her mom with wide eyes. "The beginning part before the song part is already over!"

"Sorry Mick," Her mother kissed the top of her head and forced interest in the little girl's show. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

* * *

"Am I gonna work with you tomorrow?" Mike asked sleepily, snuggling into her pillow.

"You're coming to the Jeffersonian with me, yes. But you'll stay at the daycare while I work."

"Aw," The girl complained. "I don't like it there."

"Yes you do," Brennan frowned. "You love it there."

"Aunt Angie took me to work with her while you were gone…" She picked invisible lint off her light purple comforter.

"Angela spoiled you," The scientist lied down on the bed and pulled her daughter's tiny body back towards her. "You'll go back to liking the daycare just as much as you did before."

"But I'm gonna miss you...You went away for a long time."

Brennan nodded guiltily. "I know, Mick. I know, I'm sorry. We're gonna spend tomorrow morning together…Whatever you want to do."

"I wanna go to the park."

"We'll go there."

"And have a breakfast picnic!"

"Alright," The woman chuckled. "Now sleep, baby. I'm right here."

And they both drifted off.

* * *

Michaela woke up to a smell she knew well: her mother's blueberry pancakes. Temperance Brennan had never been an especially good cook, but when the little girl was born she had been determined to make sure she grew up healthy and well-fed – which meant no takeout. Mostly. So she had learned.

"Are you makin' pancakes?" Mikey slurred over her words, still sleepy as she padded to the kitchen in her PJ's, wavy brown hair sticking up oddly.

"I assured you last night that I'd take you for a breakfast picnic, didn't I?" Brennan flipped the pancake and turned to pick up her daughter. "Did you sleep well, Michaela?" She asked, cuddling the warm, sleepy child close.

"Mmm-hmm," The girl was close to drifting off in her mother's arms, so Brennan walked to the living room and set her down on the couch. "Why don't you sleep some more…" She whispered. "And I'll wake you up when it's time to go, okay?"

An hour later, they were both getting ready in Brennan's bathroom. Mickey sat against the door, talking to her mother through the shower curtain.

"That man from yesterday mama, who was he?"

"Agent Booth? He works for the FBI. He needs my help with something, so he picked me up from the airport after you left."

"Are you gonna help him? Are you gonna see him again today?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Are you two friends?"

"We worked together for a brief period last year, but it ended badly. Since then we've had no contact."

"So you're not friends?"

Brennan paused, thinking back to the last case she's worked with the agent. She scowled at how completely arrogant he'd been.

"I wouldn't call us friends, no."


	3. Scene 3

**Thank you for the reviews last chapter! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)**

"Did everyone else know that the Jeffersonian daycare is now _closed _on Saturdays? When did this happen? Why did nobody inform me?" Brennan strode up the platform, Michaela beside her.

"I had no idea," Angela shrugged.

"Well, where is Michaela supposed to stay?" She looked down at her daughter to find her staring at the uncovered body with fascination and fear. Sighing, Brennan picked her up so that she was facing behind them. "Don't look," the scientist told her sternly.

"Why don't you leave her with Goodman?" Hodgins suggested.

Grudgingly agreeing that she had no other options, mother and daughter walked to the administrator's office.

After ensuring that Michaela would be fine with Dr. Goodman, Brennan walked back to the lab to begin her assessment of the body.

"The remains were wrapped in flat poly-construction sheeting," Zack filled her in. "I believe I was able to ascertain age and an approximate height," He handed her his notes.

"Between 18 and 22, 5"3..." She nodded. "Good work," Brennan looked back at the body and began her own study. "Race unknown…Tennis player…No clothing."

"The pond is not only warm and teeming with microbes, which accelerated decomposition," Hodgins threw in, "But it houses black carp and coy which fed on the body."

Angela, up until then silent, groaned. "Can I, as the only normal person in this room, say _ew_?"

Hodgins continued, "I got three larval stages of trichoptera, chironimidae-"

"And we cut to the chase," Brennan urged.

"The body was in the pond one winter and two summers."

"Spring before last," She deduced promptly.

"You really think I'm lusty?" The entomologist grinned saucily, earning a confused look from his co-worker.

"The book," Angela clarified.

"No, no, no," Brennan said quickly. "You're not in the book."

"Sure he is, we all are," Zack countered.

"No, none of you are in the book. Those are fictitious characters based on-"

"I found some small bone fragments in the silt," Hodgins interrupted.

"We're out of the book now, and back to real life," Angela said.

"I guess _Rana temporaria_."

"Frog bones…" Temperance mused.

"Also some tiny gold links, as if from a fine chain…"

"Point of clarification," Zack jumped in, looking at his mentor. "I'm not a virgin. Nowhere near, in fact."

"Who you captured perfectly is Booth," Angela smirked. "Buttoned down but with bucketsof sexual confidence which, mmm…I for one would _love _to tap."

"It's not right to discuss tapping asses in front of a soaker," Zack reprimanded.

"I can't bounce back and forth between my book and real life, so since we're stuck with real life let's just forget the book," The doc said, annoyed.

"I haven't analyzed whatever it was the victim was holding in her hand but it looks like cellulose," Hodgins complied.

"Paper?"

"Possibly," He shrugged.

"I found microscopic grit embedded in the skull fragments, I need you to identify those too," Brennan said, then turned to Zack. "Remove the remaining tissue, I'll debride the skull fragments myself and reassemble it so Angela can put a face on our victim."

"Good," The artist wrinkled her nose, walking away. "I prefer holographs. They don't stink."

"Zack," Temperance added. "I don't like those terms for human remains – soaker, crispy critter…"

"I know Dr. Brennan," He nodded sheepishly.

After calling Agent Booth to update him on their new findings, Brennan had lunch with Michaela before dropping her off at Angela's office and promising she'd be done by eight.

* * *

The skull wasn't nearly done being reconstructed by eight o'clock, so she begged Angela to stay a little longer with Michaela so that she wouldn't have to send the little girl home with her friend so soon after getting back.

The victim's cranium was in bad shape, completely shattered. Straining not to think about Michaela, the doctor meticulously pieced the bone shards back together. By the time she was finished Brennan nearly put her head down and slept right there on the table, but forced herself to stand up and walk to Angela's office. At least she'd started right after lunch – if she'd taken more time to help Zack remove the flesh as she'd wanted to, they would've been here till morning.

Her daughter was sleeping when she scooped her up from Angela's couch hours later, thanking her friend for watching the girl. They were back at the apartment in a few minutes' time, Michaela still asleep as Brennan tucked her into her bed and walked off to her own bedroom.

* * *

Booth chuckled as he closed his cell phone, intrigued and annoyed by the anthropologist. _But she helps_, he reminded himself, walking towards his boss' office. _She helps a lot._

She'd texted him, swearing that they'd have a face for the victim by noon tomorrow, even though he'd urged her to take the day off with her kid and let her squints do the job.

"So, you guaranteed a squint a field role in an active murder investigation," Cullen clarified after hearing Booth's story.

"Yes sir."

"The one that wrote the book?" He asked, examining the hardcover on his desk.

"Yes sir," Booth nodded.

"Thought you said she wouldn't work with you anymore."

"Well the last case we worked she provided a description of the murder weapon and the murderer…But I didn't give her much credence."

"Why not?"

"Because she did it by looking at the victim's X-Rays," He answered, still a little bit incredulous at her abilities.

Cullen snorted, amused. "Well I wouldn't give it much credence either."

"Turns out she was right on both. Plus, the pond victim? Brennan gives me the victim's age, sex, and favorite sport."

"She's good…"

"Oh, she's amazing," Booth assured. "If the only way I can get her back on my side is to bring her out in the field…I'm willing."

"Fine," Cullen declared after considering it for a bit. "She's on you. Take a squint out in the field, she's your responsibility."

Booth tried to contain his grin. "Thank you, sir."


	4. Scene 4

**Thanks for all the awesome reviews last chapter! :D I know I'm mostly using the dialogue & scenes that were already on the show, but that's sort of the point…You know, **_**Bones**_**, just like it is, but with an added element. Of course I'm adding my own scenes here and there, but if you feel something is missing or there's just something you'd like to see, go ahead and make requests! I'd also appreciate requests for episodes that you'd like me to cover after this. **

It was just starting to lighten when she heard it, the sunlight still young and orange filtering through her blinds. Her heart pounded as she looked down at the little girl snuggled into her side – she'd climbed into her bed sometime in the middle of the night and after months of being away from her, Brennan couldn't refuse. She slowly opened the drawer and fished out the old-fashioned metal key for the door to her room, silently thanking her past self for getting an apartment with lockable doors. On her way out, she also picked up the metal baseball bat she had for such occasions before shutting and locking the door – it wouldn't do for Mickey to choose that moment to wake up and wander outside to find her mother confronting what could be a burglar.

Brennan pressed herself up against the wall, holding up the baseball bat but otherwise staying still until she could make her move. Someone walked through the bead curtain and she lunged, swinging the bat against the person's mid-section. She was panting as she looked down at the man she had hit, surprised at who it was.

"Peter?"

Temperance dropped the bat and sighed. _Of course_. Helping the still-groaning man up, she checked on Mickey briefly before making them coffee and sitting down across from him.

"It's not rational for you to choose the first week I'm back to reclaim your television," She told him exasperatedly.

"While you were away, I thought a lot about why we broke up," He said, ignoring her comment.

"We fought all the time and don't like each other anymore."

"We fought because you are emotionally distant, and cold. But sexually speaking, I think you'll agree-"

Brennan scoffed at her ex. "You didn't come for your TV; you timed this for a booty call!" She stood up, took the coffee from him and ushered him to the front door. "Okay, you're leaving."

"Your intimacy issues are probably due to being orphaned so young…But you still manage to maintain a loving relationship with your daughter, so you could still overcome…"

"Ugh, I hate psychology," She interrupted, rolling her eyes. "And you're just horny."

"Brennan, do you really want to spend the rest of your life alone?" He hedged.

"I'm not alone," The door shut in his face just as her phone rang.

"What?" Brennan answered, irritated.

It was Angela, telling her she'd need come in soon.

Michaela got up soon after, rubbing her eyes and settling herself on the couch.

"Hey where's the TV?" She asked curiously.

"Pete came and took it."

Mickey's face fell. "What? Why? How am I gonna watch cartoons?"

"It's okay," Brennan sighed, wishing her problems were as simple as her daughter's. "We'll get a new one, baby. Let's go get ready to leave."

* * *

It was still early by the time they got to the Jeffersonian, so Brennan, Ange and Michaela sat in the artist's office with breakfast waiting for the others to arrive.

"Aunt Angie," Mickie piped up in-between slurps from her juice box. "Pete got the TV today and I have nowhere to watch cartoons."

"Well that's just awful," A male voice sounded out from behind them. "I know I couldn't live without my cartoons."

Brennan couldn't decide if the Agent was being sincere or just making fun of her daughter, but she chose to let it go when he smiled warmly at the little girl, who blushed and smiled back shyly.

"Okay Mick, we have to work now," She bent down and kissed the child's forehead. "Why don't you draw me something, hmm?"

"Okay," Mickey grinned and reached for the drawing supplies Angela had set out for her.

"Good morning," Brennan nodded at Zack and Hodgins, who had just walked in. "Does Booth know how this works?"

"This computer program, which I designed – patent pending," Angela explained. "Accepts a full array of digital input, processes it, and then projects it as a three dimensional holographic image."

"You got that?" Brennan checked.

"Yeah. I got the patent-pending part."

"Brennan reassembled the skull and applied tissue markers…" Angela continued, typing away.

"Her skull was badly damaged, but racial indicators, cheekbone dimensions, nasal arch, occipital measurements suggest African-American."

"And…We have our victim."

"Whoa…" Booth reached out and wiggled his fingers through the hologram. "Gotta admit, that's pretty cool."

Brennan removed his hand. "Ange, rerun the program substituting Caucasian values…Does she look familiar to anyone?"

At everyone's headshakes, she turned back to her friend and made another suggestion. "Split the difference, mixed race."

"Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams?"

"I don't know what that means...Angela, reduce tissue depth over the cheekbones to the jaw line…Does anyone recognize her?"

Booth stared at the hologram, astonished.

"Not me," Zack shrugged.

"Wait, is that who I think it is?" Angela asked, moving to take a closer look.

"The girl who had an affair with the senator…" Zack realized.

"Her name was Cleo Louise Eller," Booth said, his voice serious. "Only daughter to Ted and Sharon Eller. Last seen approximately 9pm, April 6th, 2003 leaving Cardio Deluxe Gym on K Street…She didn't even make it to her car."

"Pretty good memory," Brennan commented.

"Yeah well, it's my job to find her."

"Well in that case, congratulations on your success," Hodgins said harshly.

"This isn't exactly the way I wanted it to end…"


	5. Scene 5

**I hope you guys are still reading! Enjoy this :)**

**Thoughts in italics.**

"Cleo Eller is not just some missing girl," Booth stated, walking briskly down the front steps of the Institute.

"Yeah, she's a senate intern who was boinking senator Allen Bethlehem," Hodgins rolled his eyes.

"I was secondary in the investigation to the disappearance of that girl, and we couldn't confirm that," he turned to Brennan, who was balancing Michaela on her hip. "How did you recognize her before she even had a face?"

"I recognized the underlying architecture of her features," She shrugged. "The rest is just window dressing."

"I'm not an expert, but shouldn't he be happier?" Zack asked.

"Oh no, believe me, I'm happy," Booth assured him impatiently.

"You seem happy to me," Ange nodded.

"I need this kept quiet…"

"Ha! Cover up!" Hodgins shouted gleefully.

"Paranoid conspiracy theory!" Booth threw over his shoulder.

"Is it paranoia that Monica Lewinsky was a KGB-trained sex agent mole?"

Brennan set down Michaela and ran after Booth. "So what do you do first, confront the senator?"

"Listen Bones, I know-"

"Don't call me Bones!"

"I know we talked about you coming out in the field and all-"

"Ugh, you rat_ bastard_!"

"A case this big, the Director's gonna create a special investigation and if I line all my ducks up in a row, maybe I could head it up."

"I don't know what that means, but I think I could be a duck!" Brennan pressed.

"You're not a duck! On this one, we stick to the book. Cops on the street, squints: in the lab."

"Well, in that case," She stopped walking. "The Jeffersonian will be issuing a press release identifying the girl in the pond."

"You do that, I'm a dead duck," He paused, scrutinizing. "What are you trying to do?"

Brennan pondered for a moment. "Blackmail you."

"Blackmail a federal agent?"

"Yes."

"I don't like it."

"I'm fairly certain you're not supposed to."

"Fine," He sighed. "You're in."

She grinned gleefully at him and turned to walk back.

"Wait! You need to come with me to brief Cullen."

"I need to say goodbye to Michaela," Brennan looked down. "And…Put on shoes."

* * *

"You're certain it's Cleo Eller," Cullen checked, eyeing the two sitting in front of his desk.

"The profile's dead on – age, race, height…"

"Plus the timeline fits, and Cleo Eller did play tennis in college."

"Talk to me about the senator."

Booth handed him a picture of the man. "The victim worked for senator Bethlehem."

"It was reported that they were involved sexually," Brennan said.

"We couldn't confirm that," Booth repeated what he'd said earlier.

"Oh, Bethlehem's a hound, everyone knows it," Cullen said, reaching to take another photo from Booth.

"Ken Thompson, Cleo's boyfriend."

"Thompson's still Bethlehem's aid," Cullen nodded. "He keeps Bethlehem's calendar, no way the senator has an affair he doesn't know about. No sexual relationship, no motive. What about the nutcase?"

"Oliver Laurier."

"You like him for this?" The Director eyed the stalker's photo.

"Well, he is a stalker."

"What's your first move?"

Booth took a deep breath. "I'd like to inform the Ellers that we found their daughter."

"It's better to keep this quiet," Cullen shook his head. "It's been what? Two years? What's another few days?"

"With all due respect sir," Booth continued. "I've come to know the family pretty well, especially the Major, and two years is a hell of a long time in my book."

"I'll have details on cause of death this afternoon," Brennan jumped in.

"Then that's where we'll get started," Booth nodded.

* * *

On their way to the Ellers' home, Brennan examined the report and sample Hodgins had given her.

"Hodgins identified the particulates embedded in Cleo Eller's skull as rolled steel," She looked up from the papers. "Most likely from a sledge-type hammer. Also there's cement and diatomaceous earth."

Booth frowned, puzzled. "What's that?"

"Looks like that," She passed him the small vial filled with what looked like very pale sand. "It's made up of prehistoric sea creatures, used as an insecticide, filtering agent, cleaning abrasive…It's very common."

"Diatomaceous earth…" Booth turned the glass in his hand then handed it back to his companion. "Common or not, it's a clue."

As they finished speaking, Booth pulled up to a dark green two-story. Before exiting the car, he paused and took a deep breath. "Look, Brennan," He looked up. "I don't want to dredge up anything, but…Just, just be _sensitive_, alright?" The agent tried to avoid mentioning their last encounter, and how blunt she'd been in front of the victim's mother. "Don't go blurting out stuff. Let me do the talking, okay?"

"What? But what if they as-"

"Let _me _do the talking." He left the car.

Temperance glared at his retreating form. _Just as arrogant as ever._

* * *

After greeting the couple, Brennan and Booth were led into a small living room. She stayed silent as Booth sorrowfully explained the situation.

"You're positive it's our Cleo?"

Without pausing, the scientist spoke up. "We've established 22 matching points of comparison-"

"Yes. We're certain," Booth cut in, giving her a look.

"Did he do it?" Cleo's father asked. "The senator? One military man to another."

"Major Eller, we can't discuss the investigation in any way."

"Can you at least tell us if our daughter suffered?" Mrs. Eller's voice caught on the last word.

Once again, Brennan answered truthfully. "Given the state of her skull, I-"

"Cleo never saw it coming," The agent corrected, shooting her another glare.

"Thank you," Mr. Eller nodded.

"Mrs. Eller, could you tell us what Cleo wore around her neck?" Brennan spoke quickly to avoid another interruption.

"Her father's bronze star," The woman answered. "Ted won it in the first Gulf War…He gave it to her for luck."

Her husband embraced her as her head dropped down to his shoulder, brokenly.

After a hasty thank you, the pair walked out of the house.

"Those people deserve the truth," was the first thing Brennan said.

"Their daughter was murdered; they deserve the kindness of a lie. Do you really not get it?"

"There'll be an inquest report," She countered, ignoring his last sentence.

"Which they won't read, because they don't want to. Especially because towards the end, Cleo and her parents weren't even speaking."

"They told you that?"

"You know, getting information out of live people is a lot different than getting information out of a pile of bones," Booth said, stopping. "You have to offer up something of yourself first."

"What exactly did you do in the military?"

"You see!" He pointed at her. "You see what you did right there, Bones? You asked a personal question without offering anything personal in return. And since I'm not a skeleton, you get zilch. Sorry!"

He walked to the car, and they didn't speak anymore until he reached the Jeffersonian to drop her off.

"You should go home, Bones. Let the squints do their thing? Isn't your kid tired of hanging out at the lab?"

"Her name is Michaela," Brennan frowned, gathering up her things. "And she's perfectly fine. I can care for her by myself, thank you."

"No, I don't mean-" He shook his head and paused. "Look, it's just…You got back from God-knows-where two days ago. You were there for _two months_! You haven't even spent a full day with her, right?"

She glared at him. "What I do is none of your business. Michaela is _fine_. She's used to being in the lab with me. And since it seems to concern you so much, I'll have you know I'm taking a week off – as soon as this case is finished. As long as you don't bring me any new, urgent cases that apparently only _I_ can help you with." Brennan stepped out of the car and looked back at him through the open door. "It's strange how you're so eager to work with me now given your blatant disregard for everyone of my opinions during the last case we worked on together," She smirked. "One would almost think you feel guilty about it."

"I did not blatantly disregard your opinions!" Booth yelled, even though the she'd already slammed the door shut. "I didn't- _ugh_," He shook his head at himself, slamming a hand against the wheel. "Good going there, Seel. 'Cause as you know, everyone just responds so well to parenting advice from virtual strangers."

**:D Maybe drop me a review now *bats eyelashes*? I don't wanna seem greedy, but I'm hoping for more than 2 this chapter. Please?**


	6. Scene 6

**Thank you for the reviews last chapter! I was so happy to read all of them :D . You guys are awesome! Enjoy this one - I put in a little tidbit of info on Brennan/Mickie's past.**

After taking a moment to calm down from her encounter with Booth, Brennan walked in to greet her daughter.

"Hey Mick."

"Mama," The little girl smiled up from her coloring book. "I missed you."

"Oh, you decided you wanted to color after all, huh?" Brennan sat down next to her on the couch and pointed at the Science Kids coloring book Michaela had rejected the day before.

"I like coloring," Mikey grinned. "But I wanted to watch my cartoon before."

"Alright," Brennan chuckled. "Where's Angela? She left you here by yourself?"

"She said she had to go do somethin' and she will be here soon and I'm not supposed to wander off or I'll get lost," She rolled her little eyes.

"She's right. The Medico-Legal Lab is very large and you are quite small. It would be easy for you to get lost in one of the rooms."

Michaela grudgingly agreed. "Yeah, I stayed right here like she said. I got lost in the supermarket once, 'member? I didn't like it."

"I remember, Mickie. I was there with you."

The girl nodded, blushing. "You told me to stay right there because you needed to let go of my hand to get the cereal that was on top."

"Yes, and you didn't do as I asked," Brennan said pointedly. "You walked off to the other aisle and then we couldn't find each other."

"But we did, after. That supermarket lady helped us."

"Yes, and you learned that you're not supposed to walk anywhere by yourself unless we're at home."

"Or at Aunt Angie's."

"Right, or at Aunt Angie's."

"Or at school."

"No," Brennan frowned. "Not at school. A teacher should be with you all the time."

Michaela nodded, already tired of the topic. "Do you want to help me?" She smiled charmingly. "You're really good at coloring inside the lines."

Brennan sighed. "Okay baby, but just for a little bit. Then I have to go back to work, okay?"

They colored together for a few minutes before Angela came back. After a reluctant goodbye, Brennan walked off to find Zack and further examine Cleo Eller's remains.

* * *

"There are stab marks here," She stated after a brief assessment, pointing at the victim's left hand. "And odd markings on the distal phalanges. Nothing I've seen before."

Hodgins walked in. "In a nutshell – anxious, depressed and nauseous."

Brennan frowned. "Take a sick day."

"Not me, Cleo Eller," The scientist rolled his eyes. "Pupal casings show she was on Lorazepam, chlordiazepoxide, and meclizine hydrochloride – nausea."

Brennan turned to her assistant. "Show me those bone fragments."

Zack scurried to do as she asked, and soon she was looking at the fragments through the lens of a microscope. "These aren't frog bones. Cleo Eller was pregnant."

"Fetal bones?"

"Malleus, incus, stapes…These are fetal ear bones," She answered.

"The girl was pregnant…"

"You want me to try and get a DNA reading?" Zack asked. "See if we can prove paternity?"

"You can try," She shrugged. "Let's just hope there's enough genetic material to test."

"The senator…Oh, he is smart," Hodgins said excitedly. "He gets an intern pregnant, then murders her when it threatens his career! And he has the connections to get away with it."

Brennan chuckled, shaking her head as she stood up to look over the victim's bones again. "I hate it when you make paranoid plausible. It's like sliding off a cliff."

"That special unit?" The entomologist continued. "No way your FBI pal heads it up unless the dark powers in charge are convinced he knows where his political bread is buttered. Either way…" He looked up at his colleague. "That's where this investigation ends."

* * *

As Hodgins and Angela entertained Michaela, Brennan walked into her friend's office and stared at Cleo Eller's face on the Angelator.

Had Hodgins been correct? Had this girl really been killed just because her pregnancy had inconvenienced somebody? Cleo had been miserable – depressed, lonely…She probably had no idea what to do or who to turn to. Yet in spite of all her troubles, she'd gotten up every day and gone to work.

_I've been there._

Still completing her doctorates, fresh into a time-consuming job at the Jeffersonian Institution, Temperance Brennan had been foolish enough to get pregnant by accident. With no family or close friends to help her, she'd been worse off than the young woman whose face she stared at now. Michaela's father had been minimally supportive, a starving college student himself.

But it had worked out. She'd finished her studies, kept her job, and Michaela was now a happy, well-adjusted five-year-old. Somehow, she'd made it through.

The same couldn't be said for Cleo Eller. Despite the girl's efforts, her life and her child's life had been brutally cut short.

Brennan turned and walked out, sad but determined. She'd find out who did this.

* * *

"I'm a little confused as to why the Director of the FBI would send you to speak to the Senator instead of coming himself," Ken Thompson frowned suspiciously.

Brennan was standing with Cleo Eller's boyfriend and her supposed lover, Senator Alan Bethlehem. If she wanted to find out what happened to Cleo, she had to confirm paternity.

"Probably because I'm the one who found that Cleo Eller was pregnant."

"You could tell the girl was pregnant from her skeleton?" The senator spoke up.

"We found fetal bones. The only question, Senator, is which one of you is the father." She glanced from one man to the other. "Are you willing to submit to a DNA test?"

Thompson turned to his boss. "You know what? Given the sensitivity don't say anything on the subject without your attorney present, that's my advice."

"Advice I intend to take," the Senator nodded, already walking away. "Ken, we have a vote to get to."

Before leaving the building, Bethlehem turned to toss his chewing gum into the trash can. As he walked back to his assistant, Brennan ran to pick up the discarded piece of candy.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Saliva, say from chewing gum, is an excellent source of DNA," She answered, walking past both of them. "I intend to compare it to the DNA in the fetal bones."

"You need a warrant for that!" The Senator yelled. "Ken, she needs a warrant."

Before the younger man could even wrap his hand around Brennan's wrist to stop her, she had him on the floor with a kick to the stomach and was already walking out.

"If you have any further questions, we'll be in touch!"

**More reviews :P ?**


	7. Scene 7

**Thank you guys sooo much for the reviews last chapter! It's so great to read that people are enjoying the story :D . **

**I'm actually thinking of starting another one soon (not in this series), so please be on the lookout! **

**Thank you **_**PrueCharmed4Ever**_**for suggesting an episode for the next story! I knew when I started this I was definitely gonna do The Man in the Fallout Shelter, it will be a great ep for exploring the differences in Brennan with a child. I think maybe I'll add one episode in between, I had in my mind The Man in the Bear, A Boy in a Bush, The Man in the Wall, and The Girl in the Fridge. What does everyone think?**

**Anyway, enjoy this one :) !**

Brennan sighed as she looked at the screen of her ringing phone. If she'd at least gotten something _useful_, it wouldn't be so embarrassing to take his call. But no – Zack had just told her that there hadn't been enough DNA in the fetal bones for a comparison.

Swallowing back her pride, Temperance brought the cell phone to her ear.

"Bren-"

"_Bones_." His voice was cold and quiet and furious. "Would you like to tell me why the _hell _a US senator just called my boss to complain about a violent FBI associate with no identification stealing his DNA and punching out his assistant?"

"I did _not _steal DNA." She said quickly. "It was in the trash can! And Thompson assaulted me-"

"You shouldn't even have been there by yourself in the first place, Brennan! You know what's going to happen now? We're both gonna be thrown off the case. You won't be asked to work with the FBI for a long time, and I won't be given any big cases until I prove that I'm not a head case – I was just paired up with one," Booth gulped in a breath as he finished ranting. "You just…You just have to _think _before you do things, Bones." He sighed into the phone. "Did you at least match the DNA to the bones?"

She paused before answering. "No. There wasn't enough DNA in the fetal bones. It…It was all for nothing."

He was silent for a moment. "No, Bones. It wasn't for nothing. Just…Just, it wasn't a _good_ move, either. Listen, just get down here and get ready to be told off by Cullen. It's not gonna be pleasant."

* * *

Sam Cullen stared down at them for a good minute before opening his mouth.

"I could place you under arrest on a federal charge right now," He looked at Brennan. "For uttering threats against a United States senator."

"What?" She frowned, confused, and turned to Booth. "I-"

"Bones," He hissed.

"I own her, but she was your responsibility!" Cullen turned to the agent.

"Yes, sir."

The deputy director glared at Booth for another second before leaning down and talking into the speaker phone. "Send in Special Agent Furst," He looked back up. "I warned you about taking squints out to the field. But you vouched for her, said she wouldn't screw up."

"Yes, sir."

"No, no!" Brennan cut in. "Booth didn't know that I was going to see the senator. I wanted to get a sample of his DNA."

Cullen frowned at Booth again.

"Exactly."

"Not helping," Booth whispered to his colleague.

An older, balding gentleman walked into the room as Cullen sat down. "Tomorrow morning, I'm announcing the formation of a special unit to investigate the murder of Cleo Eller, at which time your investigation will be officially terminated," He looked at Booth. "You will not head the new unit."

Booth gritted his teeth. "Congratulations, Patrick," He addressed the other agent without turning.

"No hard feelings," The man shrugged.

"Right."

"I need the complete case files in the morning."

"Of course. They'll be ready."

"Thank you Agent Furst," Cullen nodded, effectively dismissing them all.

"At least Dr. Brennan found out that Senator Bethlehem was having sex with Cleo," Booth said, already standing up.

"I did?" Brennan frowned.

The director looked confused. "The report said there wasn't enough DNA in the fetal bones to determine paternity."

"Senator Bethlehem didn't want Dr. Brennan to take that gum. He's hiding something."

"He didn't know there wasn't enough DNA," Brennan cut in, realizing what Booth was saying.

Cullen contemplated the pair for a moment, then shook his head. "Might I suggest that you go back to your lab, Dr. Brennan, and get used to being there."

The scientist stared at the man before her, looking at him the way she might look at a puzzling, slightly repulsive piece of evidence.

"Come on, Bones."

She finally stood up, and they walked out of the office together.

"You okay?" He questioned, closing the door behind them.

"Don't be nice to me after I got you in trouble."

"Your heart was in the right place."

"No, I'm not a heart person! You're a heart person. I'm a brain person," She turned to him. "You vouched for me."

"Forget it."

"No, I won't. You think it was the senator?"

"The senator's had sex with a dozen of these interns and he hasn't killed any of them," Booth whispered. "Our best bet is still the stalker."

"You want to check him out? We can, what do you call it – roost him?"

"Roust."

"Roust," She repeated. "Well, the murderer snatched a bronze star from Cleo's neck."

"I've got twelve hours before this case is over and I'm off it, so let's go roust. Come on."

* * *

Half an hour later, Brennan was knocking on Oliver Laurier's front door.

"Mr. Laurier," The man opened the door just enough to see who was on the other side. "We have a warrant to search-"

Oliver turned quickly and ran to the back of his apartment, nearly smacking into Booth. "Don't run, Oliver," The agent grabbed the smaller man by the wrist and twisted until Laurier was on the floor.

While the suspect gathered himself up from the floor, Brennan was let in and introductions were made.

"Agent Booth is under the impression that you might have something pertinent to a case he's working on."

"You're looking for a bronze star?" Oliver read through the warrant. "Like the one Cleo wore?"

"Exactly like that one, Mr. Laurier."

"I don't have it," He said quickly, handing the paper back.

"Sometimes stalkers retain keepsakes," Brennan insisted.

While she talked to the suspect, Booth had been walking through the apartment. "What the hell are these things, huh?" He held up a paper booklet.

"Miniature lives of the saints," Oliver answered. "I hand them out-"

"Heads up, Bones," Booth tossed the booklet across the room.

"I hand them out for donations," Oliver continued. "I'm not a panhandler. Help yourself." He turned back to Brennan while Booth resumed his examination of the room. "I never _stalked_ Cleo."

"Then why did she get a restraining order?"

"Okay, okay, no. First of all, no. Ken Thompson, her supposed boyfriend, got the restraining order. With his boss, the senator. But Ken is only concerned with his job and his tropical fish," Oliver scathed. "They colluded to ruin my reputation with this specious stalker label, when in actuality – I was Cleo's close friend."

"Then why did you run from the warrant?" Brennan held up the sheaf of papers.

"My fight-or-flight response is heavily weighted towards flight," He chuckled humorlessly. "If there's anything I can do to help you catch Cleo's killer…Just tell me."

"Oh! Full confession, that would be great," Booth smirked.

"I loved Cleo," Oliver said, perfectly shocked at the suggestion. "Why would I hurt her?"

Brennan inspected him for a moment before speaking. "If you don't mind, I'm going to keep one of these little books."

"Whatever you need, Dr. Brennan."

**Thank you for reading! Review if you can :P**

**Also, I have gotten a few messages alerting me that there is a recently-started story that is a bit similar to mine. I don't know if you guys are suggesting I report it or message the author or something, but I've decided just to ignore it. It's not actually that similar, so unless it gets really obvious I'm not worried. It's more likely it's a coincidence that that story was posted just a few weeks after mine started; I bet there are more Bones stories with similar plots that started BEFORE mine - and I hope nobody thinks I'm copying them! Thank you very much for the concern, though :)**


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